Dead Of Night
by destielandthebees
Summary: Castiel has lost his grace, and Dean has lost his brother. Alone and helpless, depending on each other, Dean teaches Castiel about being human, while Crowley and his new sidekick, Bela, are plotting something huge, and it's up to a tormented Dean and a very human Castiel to stop it. (This involves multiple themes across the seasons, so there may be some unprecedented spoilers.)
1. Chapter 1

"What just happened?" Castiel groaned. He was in unfamilar territory and he had no idea what to do. The last thing he remembered was seeing Crowley and one of his cohorts chanting...something. Then he had had this sensation of being knocked back.

Not to mention another sensation, one he didn't like much. A sensation of vulnerability. Of weakness.

Getting up from the field where he lay, he realized all of the grass around him was oddly patterned. Looking at the trees, he saw that they had all been blown back by a sheer amount of force.

The kind of force only angels would have

The kind of force he used to raise Dean from Hell.

Dean. He would know what to do. Castiel tried to warp to where Dean was, but to no avail. The vulnerable sensation began to intensify as he tried to do things only an angel could. After discovering that he had no recollection of Enochian, Castiel deduced something he had previously thought but did not want to admit. He had lost his grace.

"If I'm human now, I certainly need to figure out what exactly humans do to survive. Dean will know. He can help." Castiel reassured himself.

He set out in the general direction of what he supposed must be the road. After an hour or so of walking, Castiel came upon a clearing with a house to one side. Walking up there, he hoped that there would be someone there who would be kind enough to give him...what?

Castiel couldn't necessarily ask for help from a human seeing how he didnt know how humans function. He elected to knock anyway.

"Just a minute, I'll be right out!" a woman's voice called.

Castiel stared at the door until it opened.

"May I help you?" the woman said.

"You may." Castiel replied, gazing at her. A puzzled expression came over her face. She wasn't sure what to say or wheter she ought to help this perfect stranger. But he seemed lost and helpless, so she felt like it was her obligation to help him.

"What do you need?"

Castiel found that he needed Dean Winchester to help him. But he didn't have a clue where to start looking. He did, however, know that although Robert Singer, the boys' surrogate father, had died, he could go there to find Dean. Singer Auto was their safe haven, and it was where he needed to go.

"I need a map to Sioux Falls, South Dakota."

"Honey, you really have no idea where you are, do you?" Castiel shook his head and looked towards the floor. That was the breaking point for the woman.

"Come inside and warm up. Would you like something to eat?" She invited him in. "My name is Karen. May I ask yours?"

"Yes." Castiel didn't understand why she bombarded him with ridiculous questions. On the other hand, she thought he was the peculiar one by not giving her the answers to her questions. Then she realized he had been giving her the answers, just not in the way she had expected him to. Karen resolved to ask more specific questions from that point onward.

"What is your name?" Karen wasn't used to being so straightforward.

"Castiel."

"Are you hungry?" Karen went to thr refrigerator. "I'm afraid all we have is ham and bread. I can fix you a small sandwich, if you'd like." She turned back to him.

Castiel looked bewildered. He was still new to being human, and he didn't understand most of the human spectrum of sensation, let alone hunger.

"No, thank you. I need a map to Sioux Falls, South Dakota." He repeated.

"Do you have any idea where you are?" Karen caught herself in the question. "You're in Omaha, Nebraska. Or, at least, the surrounding area." She added as a side note.

"Okay." He neither knew nor cared what to do with this new bit of information.

"Sioux Falls, you said? My husband works for a logging company. He'll be going to Sioux City on the 17th of the month, which is three weeks from now. Sioux City will put you halfway there. I'll talk to him and ask him to take you. Mind you, you'll have to earn his trust. He hardly lets anyone else in his truck. "

Castiel was relieved to hear he might be able to hitch a ride part of the way there.

"Thank you."

"You're more than welcome."

It suddenly dawned on Castiel that he hadn't the faintest idea where to begin to gain her husband's trust.

"Karen."

"Yes, dear?"

"How can I gain trust from your husband?"

"Why dont you help with gathering up the potatoes? Here, I'll show you. Follow me." She walked out to the back door. Pointing to an area of low greenery, she demonstrated how to pick potatoes. Then she noticed something she had overlooked before. "You'll need a different outfit for this job. Are you a tax accountant?"

"These clothes are suitable. I am not a tax accountant."

"Well, you certainly can't pick potatoes in that coat."

Castiel looked crestfallen. He had never taken off his trench coat before. He had gotten accustomed to it, much as he had gotten accustomed to his vessel.

"Let's find some working clothes for you." Karen motioned for him to come to the closet. "These all used to be my son's clothes, but he's off at college now. I'm sure he wouldn't mind if I let you borrow them. They look like they'll fit. Here, use the bedroom to change."

Castiel thought she was kind-hearted, but since he couldn't see into people's hearts anymore, he kept his distance even in the cramped hallway. He also thought she talked a lot. Maybe she was just lonely.

"Oh, that looks fantastic. You could do with some meat on them bones, but it'll do just fine." She applauded. "Remember how I demonstrated the potatoes?"

He had honestly forgotten.

_'Wow, there's a lot more to being human than I first thought.' _Castiel considered tentatively, unsure of what would happen in the future.


	2. Chapter 2

Once Castiel brought in the second basketful of potatoes, Karen's husband got home. He was glad to have another man in the house who could help out when his wife needed it. And he thought she needed a lot.

"Hoy, Cashteel. M'name's Bill. " He spoke with a heavy Maine accent. "

"Hello, Bill." He looked directly into his eyes. He was terrified of this large, lumbering man.

But the reaction he got from Bill was unexpected. Bill blinked and laughed heartily. Clapping a hand around Castiel's shoulder, he told him about how he had been waiting for him for a long time. It suddenly hit Castiel that Bill knew him from somewhere. He turned towards Karen, who smiled warmly towards Castiel, blinking her careworn black eyes.

_Black eyes? _Castiel turned and backed away from Bill. Bill leered at him and blinked.

_They're demons. They found me._

"What are you doing here?" Castiel nearly shouted at them.

"What, you dont recognize us?" Bill said with a thick Scottish accent.

"Crowley."

"What took you so long to get here anyhow?" Karen asked, with a British accent, but with a hint of Scottish in the mix.

"Bela." Karen turned to the newcomer. Dean dumped holy water towards them and screaming ensued.

Castiel had never been so glad to see him in his life.

Dean grabbed his arm and yanked him out of the house at breakneck speed. He started the Impala and turned out of the road, hurtling to Bobby's house as fast as they could think to do.

Ever since rebuilding Singer Auto, Dean had stayed there.

"Cas, where the hell have you been? I've been calling you nonstop."

"Dean, I-"

"Sam's missing and you don't bother to let me know about anything?"

"Dean-"

"You've dragged me out of Hell and I saved you from Purgatory, the least we could do is keep each other notified of what's happening."

"Dean-"

"Damnit, Cas, I thought you would have at least been there when I called you."

"Dean-" Castiel was beginning to get frustrated.

"CAS, YOU DON'T EVER LISTEN TO ME, TO SAM, AND YOU WENT OFF TO HEAVEN, AND REMEMBER WHAT HAPPENED LAST TIME YOU WENT OFF HALF-COCKED AND DIDN'T LISTEN?"

"Dean, I remember." He stared at Dean, obviously cross with him.

Castiel's piercing blue eyes and exhausted face made Dean instantly regret bringing up the Leviathans.

"Cas, I'm sorry. I just need you to find Sam."

"You don't."

"Yes, I do."

"I can't help you. Dean, I'm sorry."

"What are you talking about?" Dean was bewildered. Castiel turned to look at him, his face full of despair. Then Castiel turned away.

"I have lost my grace."

"What, like Anna?"

"Worse. I have no recollection of falling from heaven. I also do not have any trace of heaven in me. I didn't lose it voluntarily. It was stolen from me. I am human." Castiel gulped, not wanting to continue talking about it.

He pulled into the driveway after a long and silent drive back. Dean looked at him, wide-eyed and in shock. His friend, the all-powerful angel, was now sound asleep in the fetal position in the back seat. His parents were dead. The man who he considered a father was dead. His brother was god knows where. He was alone.

Dean looked in the rearview mirror at Castiel.

Not quite.

Dean got out of the car after a good hour had passed, absorbed in thought. Dean opened the back door to the car and saw Castiel, curled up with a serene, peaceful expression on his face. he decided to try to move him. Dean yanked on one leg, carefully moving him towards the door. Castiel didn't stir. Dean reached inside to pick him up. He was heavier than Dean originally thought. After he opened the door to the house, he noticed three people staring at him from across the street.

_Jeez, I must look like a husband carrying his wife in. Only his wife happens to be a dude in a trench coat. _Dean thought. _There's something familiar about the tall man, though._

Dean shrugged it off and laid Cas down on the single bed and let him sleep while he went to get a beer from the refrigerator. He grabbed the remote and sat at the head of the bed to watch TV. He didn't get much sleep that night.


	3. Chapter 3

Castiel woke up, unaware of what had just happened. He thought he had been knocked out and kidnapped. He felt out of place in the bed. Then he opened his eyes and saw Dean less than three inches from his face.

"YAAAH!" Castiel cried out, startled, flinging his hands about and whacking Dean. All of a sudden, there was this white-hot pain followed by a sickening crack.

Dean, the ever-vigilant hunter, had grabbed the knife from under the pillow and stabbed Castiel's arm with such force that one of the bones had broken.

"Oh, God, Cas, what'd you have to go and do that for?" Dean looked at him in shock, realizing what he had just done to his friend. Dean sprang for the sink and started running cold water. he began rummaging around for the gauze and bandages and also found the brace that Sam had used when he'd broken his arm a few years back.

"Ow," Castiel winced as Dean knotted the last stitch and proceeded to wrap it in gauze. "Thank you, Dean. Really." Dean nodded, however slightly.

"Cas, I'm gonna put this brace on your arm. But first, I need to reset the bone or else the arm will be completely useless."

"It's okay, Dean. I trust you. You won't hurt me."

"I have to." Wishing he didn't, Dean pulled Castiel's arm, letting out a howl of pain. Dean took the chance to put on the brace over the gauze.

"I...I'm sorry I had to put you through this, Dean. You don't need me to burden you. You are worried enough about your brother as it is." Castiel regretted ever considering asking Dean for help.

Dean could read Castiel's face like a book. "Cas, don't you ever," he put a hand on his shoulder, "ever, ever, feel bad about asking me for help." Castiel looked up at Dean and smiled gingerly.

Dean's hand lingered on Castiel's shoulder.

"Come on, Cas, let's get some grub. You need to eat, anyway. I could go for some pie." Dean made for the door. Castiel followed obediently. He had never hungered for anything before, but he did have a strange recollection of a similar feeling. When Jimmy Novak was still alive and aware, Famine's reach had spread, infecting his vessel with hunger so extreme that Castiel could feel it a little bit, through Jimmy. But Jimmy wasn't around anymore. When Castiel woke up in the woods, that sense of hollowness, of emptiness was there. He suddenly realized why.

"Dean, I have to tell you something." Dean's eyes were on the road, but he nodded to indicate Castiel to continue.

"My vessel...Jimmy...He isn't around anymore. When I first woke, I felt a sense of emptiness. I first thought it was my grace, but it was also Jimmy Novak. He used to talk to me, giving me a sort of...conscience, I believe it's called."

"Cas, are you telling me Jimmy left and took your grace with him?"

"No, more like someone or something ripped out my grace, and Jimmy went with it somehow."

At that, Dean pulled into the diner and turned towards him. Just as he did that, he happened to look past him and out the window, to the Gas-N-Sip across the street.

_It's the tall man and the two others again. _

"Dean?" Castiel inquired politely. Dean's eyes flashed to Castiel and back, but they had gone.

"Nothing, Cas. We'll talk more once we eat."

Once they had ordered lunch (Dean, of course, had a burger, and Castiel chose to order pancakes, eliciting a very strange look from the waitress and a rather amused one from Dean), the two men began to put the pieces together. Castiel finally heard Dean's tale.

"First, Sam was at the library doing research on Carol Anne, this ghost who was haunting a house out in Cuesta Verde, when I was at this joint and this chick comes up to me. So we start talking, right? Then she buys me a drink and ends up dragging me to her place and Sam happens to be there. Naturally, I was like, 'What the hell?' But then she starts talking in this prissy accent and says she needs to borrow Sam for something. I asked what for, and then she gives me this black-eyed stare. Well, then, who else but Crowley shows up and takes Sam off to God knows where and she whammied me against the wall and stabs my leg with a little pigsticker and says 'that was for the rabbit's foot,' and smoked out. That was when I knew Bela had climbed out. But she wasn't human anymore."

Castiel looked at Dean with an expression of mild interest and pity.

"It's not your fault, Dean."

"Lay off the sympathy, Cas, I'm not sorry. She knew what she was getting herself into when she made that deal."

"I meant about Sam."

"Sam. The hell happened to him? When I went back to the car, there was a note in the windshield wiper."

Dean pulled it out of his pocket to show Castiel.

_Five miles west of the Omaha city limits. Someone will be able to help you._

"And that was the first house I came to. That house-"

"-You found me in." Castiel finished the sentence for him. He was vaguely aware that Dean's leg was leaning against his own under the table.

"Can I help you with anything?" The waitress was back.

"Some apple pie would be nice, sweetheart." The waitress ignored the blatant flirtation and moved to the next table.

Castiel didn't know what Dean had left out: that Bela had told him she wouldn't have been dead if Dean had let her make off with the rabbit's foot, selling it for goofer dust to keep the hellhounds at bay when they came to collect.

She also warned Dean not to get help from his angel or summon her or Crowley if he wanted to avoid watching Sam learn the juicy flavor of his stomach lining.

He looked up at Castiel, who had begun his second slice of pie. Dean thought to himself, honestly terrified. There were so many questions, and he couldn't begin to know where to look for the answers.


	4. Chapter 4

Dean had let Castiel have the rest of the pie. He was too absorbed in thought and worrying about Sam to eat anything else. Castiel, still relatively new to being human, was able to tell that something was wrong with Dean. Naturally, though, he tilted his head and gave him an inquiring look.

"Cas, shut up."

"I didn't say anything."

"I'm just worried about Sam and I don't know what to do with you. You know you're gonna have to take it easy with that arm."

"It doesn't hurt anymore," Castiel lied.

"Yeah, sure, and that face you made while eating the pie was my foot up your ass. Face it, Cas, you need to learn self-defense. But seeing how your arm's broken, you're gonna have to learn the vocabulary first." Reciting exorcisms and doing spells was always Sam's thing, but Dean would be damned if he was going to let Cas tag along and get himself hurt.

"Okay, Dean." Castiel gave a grin of submission.

They packed up and went back to Bobby's house.

Dean had gotten Castiel halfway through the Rituale Romanum exorcism spell before he'd gotten a migraine and went to take a nap. Castiel kept pacing in the kitchen and reciting what he had learned so far.

Then his mind wandered back to Sam and his grace. Crowley and Bela had been there to take Sam. They had been there right after Castiel lost his grace.

_This is no coincidence. Crowley and Bela have Sam. If we assume they also have my grace, why do they need them both? What is their plan?_

Castiel put the paper back on the table and noticed a row of keys hanging on the wall, with one heavy brass key badly charred.

_This must have been left after the demons attacked Bobby and destroyed his house. Dean still misses him._

Castiel turned to see Dean fast asleep on the couch.

_Bobby was their home. That was why Dean chose to rebuild his house. He didn't want to let go of his one safe haven. He didn't want to let go of Bobby._

Castiel took the charred key and went downstairs, following his instinct. And his instinct turned out to be right. The demon-proof room was still there, also badly charred. Castiel was about to put the key in the lock when he realized it had been completely melted from the fire that had consumed the house a few years ago. He bent and squinted his eyes to get a closer look.

_These scratchings...It's like something has been trying to get inside..._

"Cas?" Dean had woken up and was calling for him. Castiel, suddenly feeling like he was trespassing, ran up the stairs. He had no sooner closed the door to the basement and turned around than Dean had gotten up and seen him at the end of the hallway.

"Cas, what are you doing?"

Castiel looked at him nervously. Dean shrugged it off, he figured Cas had enough to deal with without being annoyed by Dean watching his every move.

"How far are you on the memorization?"

Castiel breathed a sigh of relief and went back to the kitchen to recite it for Dean.

"...te rogamus, audi nos." Castiel finished the verse.

"Good one." Dean yawned and scratched the back of his head, tossing the paper to the side. "Now how's about we get some food? I'm starving." Dean looked at the clock. 1:38 looked back at him. "Damn, I didn't think it was that late. Cas, can you make something?"

Castiel looked around in apparent disbelief. He had just discovered the wonders of food around twenty-four hours ago. Did Dean really expect him to whip up a meal?

"Um..."

"Cas, let me teach you about this machine." Dean got up and pointed to a metallic box on top of another metallic box. "It's called a toaster. Put bread in the slots on top, push the lever down, and when it comes back up, take the bread out and spread some butter on it and eat it."

"Okay, Dean."

"Cas, I'm going upstairs. Bring me two of them, okay?"

"Okay, Dean."

Castiel was up for the challenge. He followed Dean's instrutions to the letter, so when he brought up the two slices of toast, he was utterly bewildered by Dean's laughing.

"Cas, you don't need to spread butter all over the slice of bread."

"You told me to spread it on the cooked bread."

"Yeah, Cas, but next time, only on one side of the toast." Dean looked at Castiel and saw that he was disappointed with himself. Dean put a hand on his shoulder and reassured him. "Cas, you're new to this. I can't- I shouldn't expect you to get things perfect all the time."

Then Castiel looked up at Dean with those blue eyes that never failed to make Dean feel like he was exposing his soul to him. Dean offered a friendly smile and sat on the end of the bed. Castiel had already eaten, so he sat next to him, making Dean slightly uncomfortable. Dean edged over a little bit, suddenly noticing that Castiel was looking at him like Sam used to.

Like he trusted him unquestioningly and would follow him through the jaws of death.

Dean felt proud of this for little more than a second before he felt unworthy. How many times had he let Cas down? Betrayed him? How he had just let Sam down by not being able to find him?

Dean wasn't worthy of the look Cas was giving him.

"Cas, I'll fix up a bed for you tomorrow. I'll sleep on the couch again and you can sleep here."

Dean went downstairs.

Castiel laid back on the bed and instantly fell into a dreamless sleep.


	5. Chapter 5

_Sam, Sam, Sammy._

_He was here just a moment ago._

_Where is he?_

_...raised from Perdition._

_Cas?_

_Cas?_

_Oh, God. I'm alone. Something's after me. I can hear it._

_Sam, Sam, Sammy._

_Cas, Cas, Cas._

_Run. Just run. Now, Dean , go!_

_Take your brother outside._

_Dad?_

_I need to take Sammy and run._

_Now, Dean, go!_

"SAM!" Dean sat bolt upright in bed. Castiel, standing over him, gave him a worried look. He was holding two slices of toast.

"Dean, are you-"

"Shut up and give me the toast, Cas." Making it obvious he didn't want to talk about it, Dean held out his hand without meeting his friend's eyes. Castiel gave him the toast and went downstairs, fretting about Dean. He longed to help Dean, but he could not help a man who didn't want his help. Castiel went back to cleaning up the mess he had made. It was hard to make toast when he had a broken arm.

"Cas."

Castiel turned around to see Dean leaning against the entryway.

"Your room is the first door on the left upstairs." Dean refused to meet his gaze.

"Thank you, Dean. Really." Castiel looked away, turning back to the counter. He heard Dean step closer to him.

"Cas, I-" Castiel turned to see Dean leaning against the countertop in his direction. But his eyes were still on the floor. He looked incredibly vulnerable.

"Dean, don't talk to me unless you want me to know anything. If I don't need to know, and nobody is in immediate danger, it can wait. " Castiel looked past Dean's shoulder. He patted his hand and went to the living room, leaving Dean dumbfounded.

_He trusts me enough not to pester me. He knows I don't want to talk about it and he respects that. Cas, damn, nobody's done that for me before._

A faint shadow of a smile passed over Dean's face as he went to join Castiel in the living room.

Dean sat at the TV and fiddled with the antenna while Castiel sat and pondered the situation. He could ask Dean what happened, which was what he had been trying to avoid, as it was more than obvious Dean didn't want to talk about it. He could let it slide and worry about Dean but he didn't want to come off like he didn't care about him at all, because that certainly wasn't true. He could try being extra nice to him, but that would probably backfire and Dean would probably get angry with him for that reason.

_He really isn't used to people being kind to him because they want the best for him. _

Castiel decided to tell Dean his last memory before waking up in the hopes that his being honest would encourage Dean to do the same. There was also the chance it wouldn't work. But there was also the chance it could.

"Dean, I need to tell you something." Dean turned to see Castiel, and the look on his face told him he needed to drop what he was working on and be there for his friend. He got up, turned off the TV and sat next to Cas on the couch, head resting on his arm over the couch.

"Dean, before you found me in the house, I woke up in a field. Do you remember when I pulled you from the Pit?" Dean nodded. "The trees were blown back. That was what I woke up to see. I walked from there to the house. Really, all I did was pick potatoes until you found me again." Castiel tentatively looked at Dean. Dean was looking slightly below his eye level. It appeared Dean was looking at the collar of his shirt. "Before I woke up, I was talking to Frank Devereaux to tell him he would be protected-"

"Frank's not dead?"

"He is, Dean."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"I was in heaven with him, explaining what happened."

"Oh, okay."

"Well, just as I helped him understand, I felt this force pull me back out of the blue. I can't describe the sensation, but it's there when you're being forcefully summoned." To reassure Dean, he added, "entirely different from when I am called by a human. Well, the room was almost completely dark, and the only voice I could make out belonged to Crowley. It was in enochian, I can't remember what it was, but then I was knocked out by the spell. Some tiome after that, I woke in the field." Castiel knew it wasn't much to go on, but it was definitely a start. He looked at Dean. Dean looked at Castiel, finally letting his ice blue eyes bore into him.

"I'm getting some beers." Dean suddenly left after a few moments of silence.

Castiel's plan had failed. But Dean did feel better after hearing Castiel's side of the story.

Castiel decided to make some toast. First, though, he needed to clean up. He went to his bedroom and changed his clothes, which were a mess from sleeping in them. He pondered how to be kind enough to Dean to gain his trust. Then he saw his trench coat over a chair. Thinking there could be some money in it, he checked the pockets, only to discover lint and crumbs.

Along with an old, heavy, charred key.

He forgot about the toast in the kitchen and went directly down to the demon-proof room, only to discover that the door was bolted, but the melted parts had been broken off. Castiel rested his hand on the deadbolt and turned it.


	6. Chapter 6

Just before he opened the door, however, he was cautious. Castiel listened to any sound from upstairs that could indicate Dean's sudden return. After focusing intently for a minute or two, Castiel turned his attention back to the door. As he turned the lock, he felt his heartbeat racing. His head was spinning. He was just about to pull the heavy door wide open when a thought went through his mind in little more than a millisecond.

_I'm trespassing._

Castiel suddenly put his hand on the door and pushed it back into the frame.

_He rebuilt this house-his home. I can't do this. I can't betray his trust after he took me in like this._

He locked the door and went back upstairs, hopelessly ashamed of his curiosity. As he put the key back in its rung on the row, he sat at the table in the kitchen and put his head in his hands, rubbing his eyes.

_Never again. Not without Dean's explicit permission._

Castiel sat upright, searching the room for something he could do to repay him, and, honestly, selfishly, to correct his own mistake. Then the answer became so blatantly obvious it could have slapped him upside the head.

He would clean up the house for Dean. It really was a mess. Transcripts overflowed from the coffee table in the living room, boxes of books were stacked in the hallway, some so dusty they looked like they hadn't been touched in the last century. There were ingredients for spells along one countertop, leaving around three feet of workspace: the sink. Dishes were piled next to a laptop, and Castiel was in for a lot of work.

By the time he'd finally established a rough organization, the hallway had been cleared of all debris. That was the first time Castiel was able to really take in the house, carefully built by Dean's own two hands. He did suppose Sam helped, but Sam never relied on Bobby as much as Dean did. Dean was always the type to look up to somebody, to have a father figure. Sam, on the other hand, didn't. Which is why he was the rebellious one, in a way. Sure, Sam looked up to Dean, but as a brother. He never needed a father in his life as much as Dean did. After John died, Bobby became Dean's surrogate father.

_And when he died, Dean kept him alive by rebuilding the house. It had become his home, his safe haven. _

Castiel walked through the house, noticing that the house followed the exact same layout as the original house. Some elements, however, were of Dean's personal taste. Dean set up the furniture in the study exactly the way it was previously arranged, but there was a laptop where the disheveled mess used to be. There was also a vest over the modern office chair. Bobby's old ratty vest. Dean had kept it.

As Castiel made his way upstairs, he had a sudden realization:

_Houses are like people. If you live day by day,you take them for granted. Until one day you wake up and it's been forty years, and you realize how much has changed, has aged, in those years past. You can't help but to look around, hoping to find the cracks where the past shines through. The young man and the fresh paint linger in memory, but are still there, underneath the dust and the soot and the grime of age. _

Castiel had never felt the sheer sorrow of being human until the moment when he crumpled at the top of the stairs, realizing how much he desired a home like Dean had always had.

Castiel tore his mind off thoughts of family ties and old houses and fresh paint and began to look for a bucket to scrub down the hallway.

Upon leaving the house, Dean stopped before turning onto the road to look backwards. He didn't know why he felt the urge to look back at the house, he just felt nervous about leaving Castiel in the place alone. Then he turned his mind back to thoughts of real food and drove on.

_Cas has been making toast for three days straight. That first time he buttered both sides was sickening, but I ate it anyway, thank God he knows how to make this properly now. Christ, why does Cas have to be so nervous all the time?_

_Where's the friggin' pie?_

Dean let his mind wander at the grocery store. He decided to buy a simple cookbook for Castiel since Dean knew how to hunt and take cases and Cas was, well, like a virgin at that sort of thing. He chose a paperback one titled _Cooking For Two_. It sounded corny, but it wasn't like either of them needed full-course meals three times a day. Or leftovers, for that matter.

As Dean meandered through the store, he rifled through his wallet, looking for an ID that hadn't been used in a while. Settling for Mr. Darius Bond's ID, he paid and left.

_Darius Bond? Sam, you play too many games._

While Dean was loading up the car, he pulled out the book. Thinking the cover was too decorated and flowery pink, he took off the dust cover, revealing an olive green book with a blank cover.

_That's more like it._

As he went to put the cart away and throw out the cover, he happened to see something out the corner of his eye. He turned, just in time to see the tall man on the sidewalk by the highway, holding a brown bag with grease stains on the bottom. The tall man put the bag down, looked directly at him, and stepped across the sidewalk towards the highway. Dean was about to yell when the tall man walked in front of a car on the highway and-

And disappeared. The driver swerved, but there was no tall man anymore.

Dean went to pick up the greasy bag. Without opening it, he started up the car and went back to Bobby's house. Dean looked over at the bag sitting on the passenger seat and crinkled his nose.

_It stinks._


	7. Chapter 7

Dean pulls into the driveway, uncomfortably knowing something was wrong. The house appeared to be unchanged, but Dean always trusted his gut. And his gut was very rarely wrong.

He had a feeling whatever was rattling around inside the bag had something to do with Castiel. But he could only surmise.

At this point, surmising would get him nowhere. Frustration building, he shut off the car and went inside the house with a few bags of food.

"CAS! GET OUT HERE!" Dean called out. Castiel appeared at the top of the stairs, slightly disheveled, and worry written all over his face. At this, Dean felt a twang of guilt.

He thinks I'm angry at him.

"I can't carry all this in myself." he gestured to the food bags he'd brought in. "Come on, Cas, there's more in the car."

"Okay, Dean." Castiel was immensely relieved. The two went out to carry the rest of the food in.

Castiel showed Dean how he had reorganized the kitchen and Dean was very pleased with it. Now he wouldn't have to spend more time hunting for the hamburger than he would hunting for Sam. Out the corner of his eye, he saw the cookbook and tossed it in a pile of other books. He decided to talk to Castiel about it later. He wanted to know about the bag first.

"Cas, I need to tell you something." He told of the tall man and the two others and how this time it had just been the tall man, how he had disappeared suddenly, leaving nothing but the grease-stained bag currently sitting on the countertop.

Castiel, breathing though his mouth (it really did stink), held out his hand.

"Give me the bag, Dean." Dean was more than happy to oblige. Anything to get the god-awful stink away from him.

Castiel very gingerly set the bag on the table and opened it. Then he picked up the bag and shook it. He looked inside the bag again in disbelief. He reached a hand in-

"Cas, are you nuts?!"

Castiel looked up to Dean, noticing the tone of worry in his voice.

"There's nothing."

"Gimme that." Dean snatched the bag away. "Cas, there has to be..." His voice trailed off as he realized Castiel was right.

"It's heavy, though."

"There is some weight to it," Castiel agreed. "But as far as either of us know, there does not appear to be anything in this bag."

"What the hell, Cas, it has to be some kind of a spell or angel mojo or-or-or something, if the bag is getting nastier by the second, something's not kosher, it has to be-to be- some sort of -a-a- something." Dean found himself at a loss for words.

"I believe the object inside this bag is invisible."

"Whatever, Cas."

"Dean?"

"Hm?"

"Thank you for permitting me to stay with you." Castiel said as he put the bag inside a tupperware container to hide the stench.

Dean looked at Castiel. He never realized how human he was getting to be. Castiel tilted his head to the left by millimeters. Dean realized they'd been staring at each other silently for several minutes.

Fill the silence Fill the silence FILL THE SILENCE FILL THE

Why is he looking at me like that?

SILENCE THE SILENCE FILL IT FILL THE SILENCE

"Cas, it's no problem. It really isn't like you had anywhere else to go." Dean realized Castiel actually touched the bottom of the bag and the smell was lingering on him. "But your ass is leaving unless you go take a shower."

Castiel tilted his head further, narrowing his eyebrows in confusion.

"You mean to tell me," Dean stepped forward, "that you have never taken a shower?"

"It never occurred to me. If I was able to heal my vessel, it is likely I also subconsciously masked any smell emanating from me."

Dean rubbed his brow and shook his head in resignation. "I oughta hose you down."

"Dean?"

"Yeah, Cas?"

"You have to teach me about being human."

"Okay, but there are barriers, man."

"Like what?"

"I am not-understand?-not taking a shower with you."

"Why not?"

Dean threw up his hands and walked out of the room, defeated.


	8. Chapter 8

"Cas, first you turn on the water as hot as you can but make sure it's not hot enough to hurt. Then you get in without your clothes-"

"How? I didn't think humans can perform osmosis."

"You have to take your clothes off before you get in."

"Okay."

"Well, then you get in and get your entire body wet. Once your hair is completely wet, use this bottle." Dean held up a clear bottle with blue markings. "Pour out the shampoo on your hair and make it foamy and then rinse it off with the water." Dean put it down and picked up a smaller bottle. "Use soap to make a foam and rub it all over yourself but not the hair. Then rinse and turn off the water and dry off with this towel. You can wrap it around you to go to your room and change. Questions?" Dean raised his eyebrows, hoping beyond hope that Castiel wouldn't ask him anything. This was awkward enough as it was, with two grown men discussing the events that took place behind shower curtains.

"No." Castiel looked at Dean intently.

"Now you go take a shower." Dean threw a towel at him and left the bathroom, closing the door behind him. "Have at it!" Castiel heard as Dean's footsteps receded.

Castiel looked at the towel and began to undress. He looked at himself in the mirror.

Jimmy's body is still surprisingly fit. Well, I guess it's my body now.

Castiel felt almost lonely as he realized his was the only mind occupying the body.

I wonder. The bag Dean found... Maybe it was something only angels could see. Since I'm no longer an angel, it would explain why Dean has it along with why neither of us can see it.

Dean. I wish he would find something to occupy his mind. He doesn't think I see, but I am able to see things clearer than previously. Being human is extremely vulnerable, but it does have its perks. Now I can tell when Dean is troubled.

Turning on the water, Castiel got in the shower and drew the curtain like Dean had demonstrated.

Dean never said the warm water running on my skin would feel so good. Yes, this is another perk to humanity. This is going on the list, above buttered toast.

Castiel poured the shampoo into a puddle on his hand. Lathering it into his scalp, with the water cascading down his back, he relaxed and was at peace for the first time since he'd lost his grace.

And here I thought humans never had a peaceful moment.

Castiel closed his eyes and let the water beat down on his face.

After finishing with the final rinse, Castiel stepped out of the shower.

I'm supposed to dry myself with this towel.

Castiel stared at the towel sitting next to the sink, unsure how to do it. Thinking back to what Dean had told him, he was supposed to wrap it around himself.

That was what he did, but before going to his room, he went downstairs to ask Dean whether he was drying off correctly.

"OH GOD, CAS!"

"What?"

"Wrap the towel around your waist, not your shoulders!" Dean closed his eyes and rubbed them. "Jeez, Cas, I'm scarred for life now!"

"Castiel looked down and moved the towel around his waist.

"Is this correct, Dean?" He moved Dean's hand away from his eyes. Tentatively, Dean opened his eyes.

"Yeah." Dean looked up at Castiel from his seat on the recliner in the living room to see Castiel looking at him apologetically, curiously, and... something else Dean couldn't quite put his finger on. Dean cleared his throat and got up once he realized what the third part of Castiel's expression was.

"Cas, you don't need my help to put on clothes, do you?" He crossed his arms across his chest.

"No, Dean. What clothes do you want me to put on?"

Damn, Cas, you're so dependent on me. What's a powerful angel like you doing in a place like-

NO DEAN STOP IT JUST HELP WITH THE CLOTHES OKAY JUST STOP

He does look nice just in that little towel it matches his eyes-

DEAN WHAT THE HELL MAN JUST GIVE HIM CLOTHES AND GO GET SOME BEERS

and his

STOP STOP STOP DON'T EVEN

"Sure, Cas, I think I have some clothes I don't wear much anymore. You can use those." Dean diverted his eyes and practically ran upstairs.

Castiel followed him, holding the towel up.

"Here, Cas, these should fit," Dean tossed a pile of clothes on his bed. "I'm going to the gas station, I need to fill up the car and we need more beer. There's a green book in a box downstairs, you can just follow the instructions, it should be easy." Dean averted his eyes from Castiel and left the room.

"Okay, Dean."

As the door closed behind him, Castiel began to get dressed. It was an outfit remarkably similar to his classic outfit, but there was a picture of Dean on a fake Homeland Security ID card in the pocket of the slacks. He buttoned up the white shirt and went downstairs.


	9. Chapter 9

25...26...27...

Dean was watching the numbers roll on the gas pump.

30...31...32...

When it gets to be full, I'll go in and get the beers.

It suddenly occurred to him the Castiel had probably never had a beer before.

Cas doesn't seem like they type of guy to have beer. Wonder what he'd like. He's probably an Irish-cream girl-drink type.

'$52.80,' the pump stopped rolling with a ding. Dean dug in the glovebox for a credit card.

Thank you, Hector Aframian.

The name sounded vaguely familiar, but Dean couldn't place it. Maybe it was just one he hadn't used in a while. Just as he swiped the card, a police car pulled up at the tank on the other side of his. Sheriff Mills's voice came floating out of the radio.

"..A 2008 white BMW going southbound on the interstate..." The radio crackled and fizzled. "Karfs, you on it?"

A portly man Dean supposed was Karfs picked up the receiver. "Yeah, Mills, I will be. I'm just gassing up the car right now."

"Okay, well, hurry up. This is some mess we've got going on."

"Hm? How so?" Karfs grunted.

"The security cameras are picking up the driver, a guy named Ivan DuBois. But I'm sitting here watching the cars chase him on the TV with Mr. DuBois himself. We're watching his doppelgänger in a full-on road rage with his BMW."

"What?" Karfs nearly shouted into the radio.

Dean had heard enough to know it was a shapeshifter they were after. They were the only ones who didn't require any contact with the person they were at the time.

Get the beers and the Irish cream and go go go

Maybe Cas can help

No he can't what with that broken arm

Maybe he can help.

Shifting his priorities, Dean hurried in for the drinks. Once he'd paid (courtesy of Mr. Aframian), Dean ran to the car and started driving back to the house, police scanner on full blast.

Castiel was following the pictures in the book without much thought for the paragraphs accompanying them. It was hard though, finding the tools to help him. Overall, Castiel wasn't sure why exactly Dean wanted him to do this.

He heard the front door open and slam shut. Bags were being set down.

"Hey, Cas?" Dean's voice rang through the house. "I was at the station when," a clink of glass. Bottles set on the counter. "I heard this cop on the radio." Refrigerator door opening, followed by more clinking, and the door shutting again. "They were talking about something, sounded like there could be a shapeshifter in the area." A soft hiss of a beer bottle being opened. Dean thundered up the stairs. Castiel's heartbeat quickened. He could feel his face growing warm and a fluttery sensation enveloped him, though he wasn't sure why.

Dean told me to follow the instructions, and that's exactly what I did.

Why am I reassuring myself?

"Cas, why didn't you make-" Dean stopped talking the moment he saw Castiel on the bed.

"Hello, Dean."

Dean continued to stare at Castiel, not realizing his beer had shattered on the floor.

"I followed the instructions in the green book." Castiel tilted his eyes, unsure of Dean's reaction. "Like you told me to."

Dean was still struggling to process the sight that lay before him: Castiel laying on the bed, leaning back on his elbows, looking directly into his eyes, that livid blue gaze unwavering. It didn't help any that he was naked save for a lacy black piece of underwear barely covering up his member.

"Cas- Cas, put some clothes on." Dean couldn't tear his eyes away; he was still in shock.

"Dean-"

"Now." Dean closed the door and went downstairs.

"Dean, I-" Castiel called after him.

"I swear I will lock you inside this room until you put on some proper clothes." The tone in his voice indicated he wasn't joking.

Castiel put on the same clothes he had worn after the shower (naturally removing the lacy thing). He then walked downstairs, green paperback in hand.

Dean was sitting at the desk in the study. He avoided Castiel's gaze until Castiel put the book down in front of him. The cover explained everything. Dean chuckled when he saw it. He looked up at Castiel and burst into gales of laughter at the sight of him crossing his arms. He could almost feel the sassiness radiating from Castiel.

Castiel was trying to keep a straight face even though he didn't understand the humor Dean found in the situation.

"What?"

Dean managed to straighten himself up in the chair. Leaning back, he told Castiel there was another paperback book in the box with plenty of recipes.

"Your point?"

"Cas, this is the Christmas edition of Busty Asian Beauties."


	10. Chapter 10

After Dean finished explaining exactly what Busty Asian Beauties was (and after a few very awkward questions posed by Castiel), Castiel decided to tell Dean his theory about the bag and how he thought only angels could see it. Dean seemed to agree. Then Dean got Castiel the correct book and went to look up information and current events the shapeshifter may have been involved in.

"Hello, this is Andrew Pike, news investigator for the Rapid City Gazette." Dean smoothly posed as an editor for a newspaper on the other side of the state. "I wanted to ask: Has there been anything you've noticed a growing trend in? Oh? Really? We had a trend in that just last week. Interesting. No. No. Yes, of course. Thanks. You too. Bye." Dean hung up just as Castiel came in with four quesadillas and a jar of salsa.

"Find out anything?"

"Yeah, actually. All in the last few weeks, couples have been announcing their engagement."

"That's... odd."

"Here's the kick: shortly after, they get married. And one of the two drops dead in a freak accident."

"Okay. So what do you think is going on?"

"Cas, I got this case solved already. You tell me. If you're human, you might as well be more independent and figure out puzzles. I can't always take charge."

"Yes, Dean, you can. You've been doing it for years."

"What?"

"With Sam."

"Cas, he's been human for most of his life. You're new. Think like a human. Solve the case, Sherlock." At that, Dean took a large bite of his quesadilla.

_Oh my God it's_

_really_

_really_

_good._

It was without a doubt the best quesadilla Dean Winchester had ever had. It was the perfect mix of cayenne pepper and Dijon mustard with grilled chicken and tomato. There was, of course, cheese and a hint of guacamole in it, all cooked to a satisfying crunchiness. Castiel had picked a good recipe. Or he was just a really good cook.

_This is so much better than the toast with the butter on both sides._

_That was disgusting._

He looked up at Castiel, who was thinking intently.

"Okay, Dean, this is what I think: If it's a shapeshifter like you said it was, maybe it is getting people married and then killing off the other half of the couple. But they need some kind of motivation. Shapeshifters don't just kill others off for the sake of death and destruction."

"Benefits."

"How is there a benefit from killing people?"

"When people get married, they share a house and a bank account and stocks and all that nice expensive stuff. When half the couple dies, everything goes to the living half, who isn't really the other half, but..."

"The shapeshifter." Castiel nodded with sudden comprehension.

Dean smiled and took another bite, watching Castiel process this new information while chewing on the other quesadilla quietly.

Dean looked at his food, and, dipping it in the salsa, added as an afterthought:

_Well, at least there's no butter._

After Castiel fell asleep on the couch, Dean had finished off his third beer. He shut the laptop to let it charge and looked at Castiel, thinking that he should teach him how to use a computer. Realizing he had been using Sam's laptop for everything, he breathed a soft chuckle.

_Sam's gonna kill me if Cas ends up breaking it. It was my idea after all._

_Sam._

_Sam._

_There's no use worrying if you ain't got any leads, right?_

_Sam._

Dean took the the sleeping man upstairs and lay him on his bed. Walking down the hall to his own room, he ached for sleep. He kicked off his boots, jeans, overcoat, and jacket. Falling into the bed, he closed his eyes, but sleep wouldn't come. His mind was far from easy.

_That was a good supper._

_Where's Sam?_

_Cas should cook more often._

_Sammy._

_And what was with that pose from Busty Asian Beauties?_

_Dean what the hell-_

_I thought-_

_WHAT THE HELL-_

_I-_

_Just go to sleep._

_Sleep._

_I can't believe Cas would do something like that for me._

_No._

_He can't._

_That means he cares-_

_NO. He can't._

_Look how many time he's done things just for you-_

_No._

_He went to hell and back for you._

_No._

_Literally._

_No._

_I don't deserve this from him. From anyone. _

_He cares._

_All I do is disappoint._

_He cares._

_He shouldn't._

_But he does._

Dean had a hard time falling asleep that night. On the other hand, Castiel slept like a log.

When Dean woke up the next morning, Castiel was already downstairs, working on breakfast. Dean threw on a ratty old pair of jeans and went down.

"Good morning, Dean. I made pancakes." Castiel smiled softly. "There's syrup on the table."

Dean sat down in front of a pile of pancakes, taking in the meal, he realized Castiel had put the wrong kind of syrup on the table.

"Cas..." He couldn't bring himself to hurt his friend after the hard work he'd done. "everything looks delicious." Smiling up at Castiel, he decided to risk it and poured chocolate syrup on his pancakes. Hell, he liked chocolate-chip pancakes, so why shouldn't he put chocolate syrup on plain pancakes?

As Dean slathered the chocolate syrup on the pancakes, Castiel looked at the cookbook, closed it, and began to eat. He looked at Dean with mild interest.

_I wonder if the chocolate syrup tastes better than the maple syrup the book said to use._


	11. Chapter 11

Dean was speeding down the road at breakneck speed. They'd tracked down the shapeshifter to a house on Baker Street. Castiel was riding shotgun, looking absolutely terrified for his life.

"Cas, relax, okay?" Dean saw him nod out the corner of his eyes and pressed his foot to the gas a little harder.

Once Dean saw the sign signaling their arrival to the correct address, he bolted out of the car.

"Dean, wait!" Castiel cried out.

"The shifter won't, Cas!" Castiel tried to follow, but his arm was paining him a bit. The brace and bandages were no longer necessary, though his arm did twinge with pain every now and then.

Dean reached the front door in time to see a man flee up the stairs. Kicking it down, he followed the creature in its attempt to escape. He burst open the only closed door on the second level, knowing that that was where the shapeshifter had to be. The curtains billowed. Running up to it, knowing there was no chance the shifter could be unhurt, Dean saw the pool and wet footprints leading away from it, towards the side of the house. Dean elected to head back down the stairs in pursuit. He saw the figure running back through the house, knocking over obstacles. Suddenly, silence.

Where the hell did it go?

He roamed the house as quickly and quietly as he could. The moment he reached the master bedroom, he saw Castiel tied up and bound to the bedframe. He ran up, completely forgetting about the creature, only worried about his friend's safety. Untying him, he worked to get Castiel out of the bed and on his feet.

"Cas, you okay?"

"Yeah, at least," Castiel looked up at Dean and smiled. "I am now."

Dean looked at Castiel with mild interest and breathed a chuckle. "I guess that shifter's gone now."

"Looks like it."Castiel's gaze didn't wander from Dean's eyes. Dean couldn't tear his away, either.

"Let's get outta here. We'll pick up the trail again once we're more awake."

"Okay."

They were relatively quiet on the way back to the house. Then again, the radio was playing full-blast.

Dean was vaguely aware of Castiel staring at him.

Once they got back to the house, Dean clapped a hand on Castiel's shoulder, relieved that neither of them were in any immediate danger. The case with the shapeshifter was over for the night. Dean turned to Castiel as they walked in the hallway. Suddenly, Castiel slammed him up against the wall, and, foreheads touching, Castiel nearly ripped off Dean's belt. Dean wasn't sure how to react. His pulse quickened. Suddenly his body took over and all thought passed out of his mind. He turned around, and, pushing Castiel against the wall, helped him out of his coat. Dean was about to grab Castiel's tie and pull it towards him, but this thought was interrupted by a shrill scream.

"DEAN!"

Dean pushed away from Castiel. But he now knew the person whom he was with wasn't a person. At least, not in the normal sense.

"Nearly caught me with my guard down."

"With your pants down, more like." It was becoming clearer and clearer every second. This was the shapeshifter. He ran off to hide Castiel in the trunk of the Impala, and changed into Castiel's clothes (along with Castiel himself). Dean pulled the silver knife out of his shoulder sling and started inching forwards, ready to charge for the kill at any time.

"Oh, come now." The impostor look at the knife and back to Dean, crossing his arms. "I thought what we had was special." He chuckled. "Well, at least, you obviously thought it was."

Dean charged him just as Castiel managed to get out of the trunk.

The two Castiels collided, and the one with only the white boxers on shoved the other one away. Dean buried the knife in the shapeshifter's back, looking directly at Castiel.

"That's what you get for hurting my friend." He let the body fall to the ground and move no more. Castiel looked at him in admiration.

"Come on, Cas, you must be frozen."

Castiel had honestly not given a thought to the temperature. Now Dean mentioned it, He began to shiver. Dean helped him inside, bringing him a blanket when he curled up on the couch.

Dean went back outside to take care of the body. Once he'd dumped it in a shallow grave near the woods, he went back inside for a beer. Sitting on the other end of the couch, where Castiel was curled up, he turned on the TV. He didn't watch much of it, though. His mind was on other things. He looked at Castiel in vague curiosity. Suddenly, he felt a sense of responsibility. He had to take care of Castiel in the watches of the night. Castiel was vulnerable now that he was human.

_That lesson was one learned by both of us._

He shut off the TV and let himself lay next to Castiel, wrapping his arms across the fallen angel's shoulders. Castiel needed Dean's protection.

I'll protect him.

Dean smiled to himself as he brushed against his wounded arm, making Castiel wince in his sleep.

_There are some things the shifter couldn't be bothered with._

Dean closed his eyes and let his head fall against Castiel's shoulderblades.

_I'll protect him. _

_I should have protected Sam._

_I'm sorry, Dad._

_I'll protect him._

Dean fell asleep, and, for the first time in a long time, he was peaceful.

On the gravel driveway to the house, a woman with a Scottish accent could be heard murmuring to a man with a similar accent.

"They're there inside the house. My servant managed to tell me before he got himself killed, the oaf."

"Are you sure?"

"Of course."

"Well, then, in a few days, I'll send Moose right on in. I'm sure they both will be pleased to see him."


	12. Chapter 12

Castiel felt a sense of warmth, of security. He nuzzled into the worn leather laying across his cheek. Still mostly asleep, he rolled over and felt more of the soft leather. Realizing he'd kicked the blanket away during the night and that he was only wearing the white boxer shorts, he opened his eyes. Suddenly, Dean's snoring face was presented right in front of him. He recalled the events of the previous night and smiled softly to himself, knowing that Dean needed to have someone to protect, and, since Sam wasn't around presently, that person was Castiel himself.

_I never noticed the sacrifices he's made for others. I only saw how much I'd given up for the Winchesters, not how much Dean has lost for his brother._

_I was selfish. _

Castiel began to feel sorrowful that Dean had lost so much. Wanting to show Dean that he would not lose him, Castiel reached underneath the leather coat he wore, and, embracing him tightly, he closed his eyes again.

As Castiel fell into the realm of sleep, Dean began to awaken. Opening his eyes, he saw a mass of dark hair. Castiel's forehead was resting against his chin. There was also the feeling reminiscent of Sam hugging him as a kid. But this was different. This was Castiel. Dean smiled a little and moved so Castiel's head was resting against his collarbone. Dean didn't think about anything for a good while before falling asleep again, wrapping Castiel into a tighter embrace.

"Dean?" Castiel murmured, not moving.

"Mmh?" Dean grunted.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, Cas, I'm fine."

"Well, I thought you might have developed something."

"What are you talking about?"

"You're sweating and you've been moving about oddly for the last hour or so."

Dean pulled himself off of Castiel's head to see his friend looking at him with concern.

_Those friggin' blue eyes._

"Cas, I'm fine, okay?"

Castiel got up and they both sat up on the couch, Castiel still only wearing the simple white boxers. He covered himself with the aged afghan blanket and looked intently at Dean. Castiel knew what was going to be coming before it happened. He buried his face into his hands.

"Whoa, Cas, what's wrong?" Dean reached over and pulled his hands away."

"Dean- I- I'm so sorry. I'm sorry for every- everything." Castiel struggled to get the words out. "For Sam. For Bobby. I should have been there. I should have helped. You gave up so much. Your brother- He- Sam is the only member of your family you still have. I put you through so much. I destroyed Sam's wall. I let out the Leviathans. I-"

"Cas, stop talking." The tone in Dean's voice showed he was serious. "I never gave up hope that you'd be back to normal again. Never. The sacrifices you've made, I could never do something like that. You killed your brothers when I kill myself for mine. Cas, we're more alike than you think. Both our fathers disappointed us. Our family left us for our own lives. So don't you dare say I gave up a lot. Don't you say that. I did it for others. I knew that if things ended well for them, maybe- just maybe, things could end well for me. Sam's gone, Cas, and I don't have anyone but you. You're damn well staying here."

Castiel looked up at Dean, whose mouth was quivering. He rubbed his eyes. Castiel has a suspicion he was crying, but chose not to say anything.

"Dean, I- there's nothing left for me to say. Thank you." Dean looked up to meet Castiel's tender gaze. Castiel got up and turned towards Dean, holding out one hand. Dean took it and got up. Castiel tilted his head and rested his hands on Dean's shoulders. Dean bent slightly to hug him, but that wasn't what Castiel had in mind. Castiel kissed him on the forehead, just above his brow.

"I'm no longer an angel of the Lord, Dean. But you should know something. Angels have always been watching over you, Dean. Even when it seemed all the light had gone out of the world." Castiel left the room to put on a proper outfit before starting breakfast, leaving Dean to his thoughts.

It took a long time for Castiel to leave his bedroom, though. He liked the scent of leather, burnt wood, and motor oil that Dean's coat had left on him.

Dean still hadn't moved when Castiel cabe back down the stairs. He asked Dean nonchalantly what he wanted to eat.

"Oh, uh, whatever you fix is okay." Dean went to the kitchen table to sit down and wait for breakfast. Castiel quickly made a sausage and ham omelette, with no errors being made.

Dean scarfed down the food. Though it really was quite delicious, a lot of things had been happening between him and Castiel recently, making him want some solitude to think things over.

Realizing this, Castiel left the room after cleaning up for the both of them. He went to the study to review certain incantations and practice making devil's traps, leaving Dean to his thoughts.

After Castiel came back in the kitchen to make sandwiches for each of them (Castiel had discovered that while Dean liked his roast beef and swiss, he was more partial to tomato and pepperoni sandwiches, for some reason), he put the plate down in front of Dean, who was lost in thought. Castiel decided not to say anything until he was ready to talk. He went back to study the spells some more.

Castiel was getting hungry when he looked up to see Dean watching him from the doorframe. Getting up from the couch, he pointed out the devil's traps he had practiced.

"Dean, do you think this is right or should I-"

Castiel was interrupted by Dean striding across the room and kissing him deeply. Small lightning bolts sparked through Castiel's body as well as through Dean. Castiel's heart fluttered and he felt lightheaded, while Dean's was pounding with truth and determination. It was more than anything he had ever experienced, a soft, warm, tender light as their skin touched. Pain and admiration burned from Dean and Castiel alike. Dean let go slowly, letting his forehead rest against Castiel's.

Castiel looked into Dean's eyes- those vivid green eyes- and kissed him back.


	13. Chapter 13

Needless to say, Dean was surprised by Castiel's himself was still unsure of how he felt about it. He knew he wasn't into guys, otherwise his subscription to Busty Asian Beauties would have been cancelled a long time ago. But it was Castiel. It was always Castiel.

As Castiel kissed him, Dean put a hand on his stubble, drawing him closer. Castiel broke away to draw in breath. He looked at Dean.

"...you."

Dean neither knew nor cared what Castiel said, for then he pulled him against his body, rigid as he could possibly be, and a fiery craving consumed him. Dean tearing away his leather coat, Castiel throwing off his trench coat, discarding them so they could get to the layers underneath. Heat Dean had never felt before burned with every touch, every graze of their lips blazing. They weren't trying to catch their breath, they were trying to inhale the other's. The two of them stood there for a long while, running their hands over the other's body, wanting it to last, not wanting to cross a boundary, yet, knowing things would never be the same.

"Cas, I..."

"Dean..."

Neither of them needed to say anything.

Their hunger overcame them as clothes fell to the floor. Electrifying with every touch of skin against skin, Dean and Castiel's ache for each other grew. Dean, wanting to learn, needing to learn the contours of Castiel's body, kissed his cheek, his jaw, his collarbone. Dean put him through hell, and the least he could do was show him ecstasy in its purest form. He breathed out a soft moan as Castiel put a hand on his shoulder, on the scar where Dean was raised. He started to become harder, and he could feel his cock rising. Dean looked up at Castiel from his place, kissing his lower abdomen. Castiel ran his hands through his hair and Dean stood up, picking up Castiel at the knees. Castiel wrapped his arms around Dean, kissing him until they were laying on the couch. Castiel hadn't mentioned anything, but he was sporting a raging hard-on.

Dean was using his hands to elicit moans of lust from Castiel when an inhuman howl rang through the house. Dean's ears were ringing as he jerked up to listen.

"Dean?" Castiel inquired, tilting his head to one side and sitting back on his elbows.

"It's probably just some coyote or something." Dean looked back at Castiel and kissed him again. His hand meandered down Castiel's torso and began stroking his member, causing his pulse to quicken. Dean put one hand on the armrest of the couch and positioned himself in a way that would help both of them reach the point of no return. Dean began sliding his own body down, and, rocking back and forth slowly on top of Castiel, they began moving rhythmically. He began thrusting, rubbing their cocks together in the most intimate of ways.

"Dean- I- Something's happening."

"Just let go, Cas, just let go."

Castiel looked at Dean with willing trust, knowing Dean would never purposely hurt him, submitting himself to Dean, and he let go. Castiel's back arched as he climbed past the throes of passion. He nearly screamed in fear and pleasure, and just as Dean crossed the threshold and grunted in reaching this high, he had to look away as a divine light shone beneath him. He collapsed on Castiel's torso. Wrapping his fingers together around Castiel in an embrace, he fell asleep. Castiel was also slipping into a serene sleep. Something jerked him awake, though.

"Um, guys? Is it safe for me to come in? Or am I going to be scarred for life? Not that I haven't already been." Sam peered into the roomduring this period of silence. Castiel suddenly felt embarrassed, almost ashamed. He elected to deal with the situation when he needed to. For now, however, he would let himself sink into the couch with Dean, asleep.


	14. Chapter 14

Rolling over and pulling Castiel closer to him, Dean smiled as he knew things wouldn't be the same. He knew this changed everything. But he didn't want to be bothered with it at the moment. He was too happy to care. Castiel turned over to look at Dean, wide awake with a gentle smile. They kissed, a long, warm, kiss. Dean's hands slipped down the sheets to enjoy the morning, but Castiel's hand stopped him.

"Dean, there's something you should know."

"Cas, if it isn't an emergency," Dean's eyes flickered to Castiel's lips,"It can wait." Dean interrupted Castiel with another, rougher, kiss. He threw off the blanket, which would only become a nuisance. "Cas.."

"Dean, stop." Dean looked up at Castiel, hoping beyond hope that he wasn't serious. The pained look in his eyes told him all he needed to know. His heart sank. His world- the one he had tried so desperately to construct and keep safe- was crashing down around him. Sam was gone, and now, Castiel might be leaving, too.

"Why?" Dean barely got the word out, his breath began to hitch.

_Stop it._

_Stop._

_Oh my god, I'm such a girl._

"We can't." Castiel looked at him, obviously wounded as well. Dean gulped, cleared his throat, picked up his clothes, and went upstairs.

Castiel didn't see Dean struggling to hold back his tears.

Dean didn't see Castiel bury his face in his hands and let himself give in to wrecking sobs.

Sam, completely oblivious to wha was taking place in the house, sat on the porch steps, contemplating what he'd seen the previous night, and, shoving these thoughts aside, he went inside to surprise Dean.

After Dean showered, cleaning away the last remnants of the night from his chest, he he was going to go out, get dressed, and never mention anything to Castiel again. Upon opening the door, he was greeted by a familiar sight.

"Oh Christ, Dean, use a towel." Sam groaned and shut his eyes from his place on the bed.

Dean was still in shock. "Sam, what- I- How-" He couldn't string together two words. Instead, he crossed the floor to hug his brother.

"I thought I'd lost you. Dad always told me-"

"Dean, get off me and put on clothes or I swear I will hit you." Sam shook his head, raised his eyebrows, and pursed his lips before going downstairs.

"Okay." Dean chuckled as he went to the dresser and put on jeans, an undershirt, a button-down shirt, and a jacket before heading down to talk to Sam.

"Sammy, what the hell happened to you?" Dean offered him a beer. Sam took it, noticing that Castiel was still on the couch, curled up in what seemed to be his own trench coat.

_God, Cas, I love my brother, but I can't stand to see you like this. It was a one-time thing. It's not going to happen again. _

_Jeez, he's really upset._

_Or tired. He could be tired._

"Well, uh, nothing fun." Sam jerked Dean back to reality.

"Sam, I saw you get taken. Then a whole bunch of crazy-ass stuff happened and now suddenly you're back?" Dean took a swig and sat down at the table, blocking his view of the curled-up Castiel."

"Well, uh, I'll start at the beginning." Sam took a long drink of his beer and cleared his throat.

"Right after Crowley took me, I felt this crushing pressure, like my body was going to be ripped apart from the inside. It wasn't pleasant." Sam chuckled and shook his head softly at the memory of it. Looking up to meet Dean's eyes, he went on with his tale.

"Then the pressure stopped and went away. It felt like it was draining away, like all that power was melting, and there was nothing I could do to stop it. Once that sensation was gone, I was glad to be rid of it. But I felt so weak. Like I had to have it. I needed it again. I felt so powerless. I wanted it all to end, I wanted it to be over, Dean. I wanted to just let go. Die."

"Sam-"

"Let me finish, Dean. You don't understand this torture. It came in waves. The flash of burning light, the power, then the fading, and then weakness. It went on for days. Every so often, I'd look up and Crowley would tell Bela to hold off and he'd tell me to defend myself. I had no idea what he meant, though."

"You had? So did you figure it out or...?"

"Dean, I didn't know. I didn't." Sam turned his head downwards. When he looked back up at his brother, tears were in his eyes.

"They were dormant, Dean. My abilities."

Dean looked at Sam in a silent stupor. "Sam, stay where you are. Just stay." Dean picked up a circular tin flask and emptied the contents on Sam's head.

"Dean, what the-"

"Shut up."

Dean threw rock salt at him.

"Dean, I'm not a-"

"I said shut up."

Dean sliced Sam's arm with three different knives, one of silver, one of iron, and one that was dipped in holy water. Sam winced, but not to the extent of supernatural pain. Dean pulled out a jug of Borax and poured it on Sam's hand. Sam shook the liquid off, trying to dry his hand.

"What the hell, Sam?" Dean gave up and sat across from him at the table, honestly bewildered. Sam shrugged.

"First you show up out of nowhere, then you tell me you've got those-those powers again, and now no weapon against the stuff we hunt works on you?"

Sam crossed his arms. "Like I said, Dean, I was powerless. I had no idea any of it was happening to me."

"Sam, I- How did you escape?"

"I didn't."

Dean looked at him, stunned.

"Crowley let me go. Bela said something about it being the right time since, I don't know, something about her spell not working correctly."

"Like how?"

"I don't know, Dean. There are a lot of things I don't know, okay?"

"Okay, Sam." Dean crossed over to the refrigerator. "Another?" Sam nodded and took the other beer, sitting in silence. Dean went back to the study to wake up Castiel.

"Mmh?"

"Cas, come on. You need to get up."

"Fine, Dean, just give me my clothes, okay?"

Dean's eyes darted to Sam, worried.

"Castiel had too much to drink last night." Dean spoke, too fast. He gathered up Castiel's clothes and helped him upstairs and to his room.

Donning his suit-jacket, Castiel left the trench coat on the bed. He looked up at Dean.

"Dean, I'm so sorry. But you thought you needed me. I understand now. You need your brother, not me. I should go."

"You're staying right here, Cas."

Dean turned to see Sam in the doorway. Sam looked at Dean and back at Castiel.

"Dean needs you as much as you need him, Cas. You're only human, but you need to learn that, at the very least. I'll stay here, but you two need to work things out between yourselves." Sam smiled softly and nodded. He flashed his eyes to Dean before leaving the room.

_What?_

_No._

_I didn't see anything._

Dean turned back to Castiel, who smiled wistfully, as if he was wishing for something. Dean decided to grant this wish.

He kissed him and told Castiel to move his things int the master bedroom, Dean's room. As he sat on the end of the bed, watching Castiel fold what little clothes he had meticulously, preparing to move down the hall, Dean let his mind wander.

_What's gonna happen now?_

_Does Sam know?_

_I'll sleep on the couch until he figures it out._

_Does Cas have any idea how Bela tortured Sam?_

_Or why it all stopped suddenly?_

As Castiel piled his clothes in his hands and walked down the hall to Dean's room, Dean turned out the lights. He left his jeans and layers of shirts and jackets in his room and went down to lay on the couch. One recurring thought refused to let him sleep.

_I could have sworn, if only for a second, Sam's eyes were a dull yellow._


	15. Chapter 15

Dean woke to the sound of bacon sizzling.

"Morning, Cas." Dean grunted and stretched as he got up. He saw that Castiel's eyes were dark. He obviously hadn't had a good sleep, either. "How long have you been up?"

"Since yesterday morning." He cracked an egg on the stove. "Your bedroom gets very cold at night, Dean."

Dean chuckled, and, crossing into the kitchen, told Castiel, "You're supposed to sleep under the covers."

Castiel threw the eggshell into the bin rather forcefully. "Dean, I'm not a child. I know." Dean was about to apologize when the front door flew open and then slammed shut again. Sam walked into the kitchen.

"About time you got up, Dean."

"Sam." Dean looked at him, feeling like it had been years. "I thought it must have been a dream or something." He was about to cross the room to hug his brother when Sam smiled that cheesy puppy-dog smile of his and pretty much ruined the moment.

"Breakfast is ready, Dean. Sam, your peanut butter and banana toast is on the table."

Dean watched Sam take the toast and begin to eat it, chomping noisily as he thundered up the stairs. "Er'm gernna shhwa." He disappeared over the landing.

"Sam was out running, Dean. It's good for him. Eat." Castiel was holding two glasses of milk, waiting for Dean to sit down.

Dean ate a few bites, chewing slowly and thoughtfully. Once Castiel had finished and was waiting for Dean to finish politely, Dean looked at him in the eye, resting his chin on his hand, and asked, "Cas, what do you want?"

"I'm not sure I understand."

"It's a simple question."

"No, Dean, it isn't. I don't know what you want me to say."

"It's not about me, Cas, I'm asking you. Now that you're human, you can pretty much do what you want with your life. You don't have you stay here. You don't have to join the life. You can do what you want, Cas."

"Dean, there is no simple answer to that question. At least, none that I can think of. " Castiel put the bacon and eggs on two plates and set them on the table. As an afterthought, he set butter on the table and put bread in the toaster. Not turning around to look at him, Castiel spoke in a low voice. "Sit, Dean. Breakfast is ready. I will bring the toast when it's done."

Dean sat and stared at his plate. He picked at a bit of egg. Castiel brought the toast ans sat across from Dean, eating the bacon wordlessly.

Dean dropped his fork on the plate and shoved it away.

"Cas, dammit, I know what I want. Now you need to shut up about me and figure out what you want. If you wanna leave, fine. Be my guest. But don't you dare turn this around on me. I've had enough of that." Dean's voice began to escalate. "When you find out what you want, you go do it and don't look back." Dean's voice cracked at the last few words and he left the room with his food.

Castiel rested his chin on his clasped hands and thought for a good long while.

_What do I want?_

_I want my brothers back._

_I want to see them alive again._

_I want them to know how sorry I am. For everything._

_I want Dean and Sam to have their family again. Including Bobby._

_I want to see Dean enjoy himself for once. _

_I want family._

_I want to see Dean smile because he's happy for himself, not for someone else._

_He's given so much._

_I want him to be happy._

_Nothing else could be possible, I'm only human now._

_But I could make Dean happy._

Castiel got up to clean the mess in the kitchen, but not before he caught a glimpse of Dean eating in fron of the television. He frowned, trying to find an answer to the one mystery left for him to solve.

_What does he want? How can I make him happy by giving him what he wants?_


	16. Chapter 16

Castiel got up and sat beside Dean on the couch. He noticed Dean was no longer looking at the TV set, which was showing a woman talking blandly about traffic on a nearby road.

"Dean, why are you staring at me?"

"Dude, nobody takes four hours to clean up."

"I was thinking." Castiel paused. "About what you told me."

"Stop."

"Dean, I want-"

"Cas, stop." Dean put a hand out, as if he meant to physically restrain Castiel from telling him. "I only asked because I want you to think about what you want in your future. You don't have to tell anyone, and that's fine by me."

"Dean, I want to tell you something."

"Alright, Cas, but just don't do it cause you think I need to hear it. Don't have pity on me, I don't deserve it."

"Dean, this is what I want to tell you. You deserve to be happy. Even after all I've given, even after all I've been through, I've still put you through more hardships than anyone should have to bear. I'm sorry, Dean." Castiel cast his eyes downward. "For everything."

Dean stepped forward to rest his hand on Castiel's shoulder but brought himself to Castiel and hugged him. Castiel was surprised for a second, but returned the favor.

"You didn't have to tell me this, Cas. But thanks. I think some part of me needed to hear it."

"Do you guys need a moment together or should I send out wedding invitations?"

Dean abruptly turned towards the staircase to see Sam leaning on the banister with a toothbrush in his hand, foaming at the mouth.

"Shut up, Sam."

Sam turned and went back upstairs, laughing gleefully.

Castiel asked Dean to tell Sam about the disgustingly greasy bag from the previous month. That was when all hell broke loose.

"Sam, come here. You have any idea what the deal is with this?" Dean handed him the bag.

"What are you-AAAGH!" Sam reached out for it but dropped it instantly, upon touching the bottom of the brown paper sack. Castiel burst in the study from his seat in the kitchen.

"What happened?"

Sam looked at his palm, which was raw and red, like it had been burned. Sam looked up at his brother, his face contorted in pain.

Dean stared at him, dumbfounded. He pulled out a gun and pointed it at Sam, tears forming in his eyes behind an expression of sheer hate and fury.

"Get out of my brother."

"Dean, this is me, it's Sam, what are you doing?"

"I won't ask twice. Either tell me how you're here, or get the hell out of my brother." Dean cocked the gun."

"Cas, help me, Dean- he doesn't know what he's talking about, Cas, you have to help me, please-" Castiel looked at Sam with wide eyes, back at Dean, then at Sam again, increasingly worried.

"Dean, I'm not sure about this. Can I try something?"

"Do it fast. I'm not letting this thing out of my sight. It's been almost thirty years since Mom died, and none of it's gonna happen again. I won't let it."

Sam was speechless. He had no idea what was wrong, and he was absolutely terrified and confused until Castiel brought in a mirror.

_Oh God, oh God, I have yellow eyes, why do I have yellow eyes?_

_Crowley._

_No._

_Dean's gonna kill me and-_

_Oh, God._

_I'm screwed._

Dean pulled out a flask with a pentagram on it and spilled holy water on Sam, to no effect. He got the same result with salt.

He put Sam on lockdown in the panic room until he could think of a solution. What scared him was the fact that Sam was able to enter the panic room and even step over the devil's trap lines on the floor.

"Dean, I have a theory as to what is wrong with Sam. He's been tortured with something from heaven, most likely one of the weapons lost some time ago. Because of the torture, his demonic side has grown stronger and more resistant." Castiel picked up the greasy paper sack and looked at Dean. "This bag was probably dipped in holy oil."

Everything was clicking into place.

"But why would anyone give me the bag thinking I would give it to Sam?"

"They were probably counting on it. Then again, it may not have been for Sam. Castiel shifted his eyes from Dean."

"Spit it out, Cas."

"Well, Dean, the other night, before Sam arrived, when we, um," Castiel stepped forward and nodded in the hope Dean understood. He did.

"And?" Dean crossed his arms defensively.

"I felt like I was pulling back my grace."

"How?"

"Well, angels who don't have their grace for one reason or another can pull their grace back to them in moments of pure clarity. But I'd have to be an upper-level angel for that. I don't have that type of knowledge."

Dean raised his eyebrows. This conversation was getting awkward. A little too awkward than he was prepared for.

"It's almost lunchtime, Cas. You gonna fix something or should I?"

"You can fix it, Dean. I think I'm going to go upstairs and sleep. I'm very tired.

Dean decided on burgers. He made four on the grill, glad to be left alone with his thoughts.

_Sam, what the hell is going on with you?_

_We need to stop this. All of this. How?_

_Cas, you need to get your power back, or grace, whatever it's called. _

_Then maybe you can help Sam._

_Wait._

_Wait a second._

_Anna._

_How did she get her grace back?_

_Well, she smashed the container it was in._

_I doubt we can do that, though._

_But..._

_Moments of clarity. Peacefulness. _

_When all is right with the world._

_Oh, God damn it._

_God damn it._


	17. Chapter 17

Dean brought down a burger to Sam.

"Really, Dean?" Sam looked at the burger with an expression of mild disgust.

"I'm not feeding any brother of mine rabbit food." Dean thrust the plate at him. "Now eat."

Dean stared at the floor in silence as Sam finished half of the burger. He could almost feel his brother's eyes boring into his skull.

"What?"

Dean, you're smarter than you think you are. Is there something you aren't telling me? If you're even THINKING about making another deal-"

"Who said I was, Sammy?"

"Dean, just promise me you won't go off and do something that'll get you killed for me."

"Sam-"

"Promise."

"Alright, Sam, I promise. Jeez, I feel like a friggin' 5-year old."

Dean explained what he and Castiel talked about.

Sam stared at the floor, dumbfounded.

"So I could die if we find his grace."

"We're not doing it, Sam."

"Dean... I can't take being locked up. I can't have you look at me like- like I'm some kind of freak."

"DAMN IT SAM, YOU'RE STILL MY BROTHER. CAS IS STILL MY FRIEND. AND YOU THINK I'M GONNA STEP ASIDE AND LET THE TWO OF YOU DIE TRYING TO SAVE EACH OTHER?! BOBBY'S GONE, DAD'S GONE, AND NOW YOU TWO ARE ALL I'VE GOT AND I'LL BE DAMNED IF YOU TWO JUST GIVE IT ALL UP TRYING TO SAVE EACH OTHER! I WON'T LET YOU!"

Dean, tears threatening to stream down his face, stormed out of the panic room, locking it behind him. Before opening the door to go upstairs, he rubbed his eyes in frustration.

"Damn it... God... Sam... Sammy..."

He sat on the stairs and gave in to wracking sobs. Dean stayed quiet though; he had to stay strong for Sam and Castiel.

Dean was starting to compose himself when he heard a voice behind him say, "Hello, Dean."

He turned and stood up to meet Castiel's gaze. Castiel appeared to have heard everything. He looked at Dean with an expression of great despair. "I know you would do anything for Sam. I know you will always choose Sam. But I would like to show you what I want." Dean blinked, tilting his head is slight confusion. He had no idea where Castiel was going with this.

Next thing he knew, Castiel's lips were pressed against his.

He backed away a little bit, looking at Castiel in shock.

_Moments of clarity._

_When all is right with the world._

_Cas, you said you wanted this, right?_

_With everything you've done for me, I guess..._

_You deserve it._

_And I think I want this too._

_Oh, God, Sam will never let me live this down._

Dean stepped forward, put a hand on Castiel's cheek, and kissed him back. Castiel flinched at the sudden motion, but soon learned how to move his lips in rhythm with Dean, tilting at the right times, then Dean's hand began traveling into Castiel's hair, pulling on it lightly, intensifying the feeling. Castiel wanted to learn Dean from head to toe. He wanted to be with Dean in every sense of the word.

Suddenly, a surprising, but warm sensation overcame him. Dean pressed a hand down Castiel's trench coat and pushed it away. The coat fell to the floor just as Castiel began to reciprocate and explore Dean's mouth with his tongue.

Dean was taken by surprise at this gesture, but he didn't think much of it, and, he wasn't worried. Castiel would never hurt him purposefully. The fact remained, powerless or not, he was still an angel.

_And,_ Dean thought, _Just because he's in a male vessel doesn't mean I'm into guys now. Cas is Cas. _

"And I like you just the same," Dean finished his thought.

Naturally, Castiel was confused at this statement. "What are you talking about, Dean?"

"Never mind." Dean said and took off his coat before helping Castiel unbutton his shirt.

Once Castiel's torso was bare, Dean looked down and saw all of his scars. A line directly over his heart showed the events of their first meeting, along with some faded scratches, most likely buckshot. There was also a faded, shallow but intricate sigil spread across Castiel's chest. Dean traced the small triangular scar and pulled Castiel on the couch next to him.

Castiel pulled off Dean's shirt and pushed Dean back on the couch, kissing him, probing his tongue into his mouth until they were almost intertwined. Dean's jaw reached up to meet each kiss Castiel delivered as Dean pushed a hand down to unbutton Castiel's pants. He felt a hand stop him.

"Dean, I... I can't force you to-"

"Cas, you're not forcing me."

Castiel met Dean's eyes and he saw the truth that lay within.

He let go of Dean's hand and kissed him again before standing up and pulling Dean's shoulder, encouraging him to get up. Dean stood and looked at Castiel, confused. Castiel smiled and walked towards the stairs. The sudden realization of what Castiel wanted hit Dean, and he followed suit.


End file.
